Something to Believe In
by deedee920
Summary: We don't know for SURE that Andy didn't find SOME way to contact Sam before she left in 3.13. Here's my version of hopeful.
1. Andy

_**A/N:**__** I have spent the last week basically trying to come up with anything POSITIVE about the finale. I came up with a few things, but we also do not know for sure that Andy didn't reach out to Sam in SOME way, so here is an example of my positive imagination at work. Hope it gives you some hope. **_

_**Huge thanks to the amazing Rookiebluefan89 for the BETA. **_

_**Disclaimer:**__** If I had any claim to Rookie Blue, a few things would have been pretty different this year.**_

* * *

Andy let out a deep sigh as she leant back against her kitchen island to take one last look around her condo. After taking another mental inventory, she was sure that she was all set, but she just couldn't shake the nagging, upset feeling in her stomach that she was forgetting something that she needed.

Or maybe it was just _someone_.

The anxiety was slowly building in her chest as she looked over at the clock again; simultaneously wishing that the time would pass quicker and that she could rewind it just the same. Luke would be picking her up within the next ten minutes, and she'd be off to start the taskforce, become a whole new person. Sitting there alone with nothing to do, she'd never felt more confused. Andy reached her arm behind her back and blindly grabbed her cell phone off of the counter. As she stared at the screen, her thumb hovering over the speed dial, she felt that familiar rush of dueling emotions, something between anxiety and uncertainty, that's been tormenting her repeatedly over the past six weeks.

Irritated with him, with herself, and with the entire damned day, she let out a loud, frustrated groan. She really needed to call him, but not only that, she _wanted_ to call him, and she knew that she _should_ call him or text him or _something_. Yet, she just couldn't bring herself to do it.

What was she supposed to say? _'I probably would have met up with you, even though I wasn't sure if I wanted to, but either way, I can't because I'm going away for who knows how long?'_ Andy groaned inwardly at the thought. Yeah, that probably wasn't going to make it on to a Hallmark card anytime soon.

Plus, Luke had made it explicitly clear that she wasn't allowed to tell anyone about the operation, or even that she was leaving. How stupid would she be to break the rules and get suspended… again?

Oh, who the hell was she kidding?

Screw Luke and screw the rules. Although they were legitimate excuses for not pressing 'send', they were just that - excuses.

Deep down, Andy knew the real reason. She was hesitating because she knew that if she allowed herself to hear his voice, to picture him sitting there with his stupid hopeful grin, or to listen to one more word about dinners and dogs, then she wouldn't be able to leave.

And she really needed to.

Honestly, Sam had played with her emotions enough over the past six weeks, and really, over the course of their entire relationship. One minute he was whispering romantic sentiments in her ear, and the next he was jumping straight out of bed and into his clothes. He promised her he'd try when things got tough, only to turn away at the first sorrow. He had literally left her standing in the fucking rain; bawling her eyes out, as she begged for him to just let her in. To just _please_ let her be there for him.

Instead, he walked away. Yes, he had needed time and space to process his feelings about everything, and especially about how the loss of his best friend would change his life. Andy really did understand that. Now she needed the same. She wanted some space to sort herself out, too. She wasn't entirely blameless for things going south either, so she just needed to gain a little perspective of her own. She realized the irony in the fact that she was someone who normally hated time and space, but at this point in her life, she needed just that.

The truth was, at that moment, Andy couldn't remember the last time she lived for herself. The past few years, she had done whatever she could to placate her dad, helping him, supporting him and catching him every time he'd fall. Of course, she'd bitten her tongue more times then she could count back when she was with Luke, and accepted less than his best just to keep him happy. Most importantly, though, Andy recognized that the blindness that comes with being truly in love had made her lose sight of everything except Sam in the past year.

So, it had to happen; she needed this time to focus on _Andy_. She wouldn't be any good to him or anyone else if she let herself get lost any further in her current state of discontentment and regret.

Still, she couldn't assuage the guilt of simply standing Sam up while he waited at the Penny, all hopeful and remorseful. He'd finally opened up to her, told her how he truly felt and shared dreams for the future. A future with them together, at _home, _and with, _their_ dog- named Boo Radley, apparently. Once again, she had to bite her lip to keep a wide smile from forming on her face at the simple thought of it.

Back in that moment at the station, all Andy wanted to do was fall into Sam's arms and agree to be with him again. To kiss him and taste his familiar mouth, to feel his solid body pressed tightly against hers, warm and familiar and delicious. It was just too risky, though. She couldn't do anything but hold strong and stand her ground in order to let him know that she was serious. So, instead, she'd simply dropped her head to take in a deep, steadying breath, because if he reneged this time, Andy doubted that she would ever be able to breathe again.

Her eyes skimmed the condo once more before they landed on her built-in bookshelves. An idea suddenly came to her mind, and just as she has started to mentally debate the pros and cons of doing it, a quick glance at the clock affirmed that it was nearly time to go.

So, for once, she decided not to overthink it. She strode over to the books and snatched one from the third shelf on the left. She cracked it open and quickly flipped through the pages until she landed on the one that she had dog-eared forever ago. Skimming the black letters against the faintly yellowed pages, Andy found a section that had always stood out to her. When she was younger, the quote had always reminded her of her dad, but looking at it now, and really thinking about it now, she could see it in a completely different context. A very _fitting_ context.

Re-reading it one more time, she allowed herself to reflect on the different ways that it applied to their relationship.

* * *

'_So, where do we start?'_

Honestly, at the time Sam had asked her that, she truly had no clue. It turned out that they didn't actually _start_ anything. They jumped right into the middle. Much like reading a book and skipping the prologue, things weren't so clear from there. It wasn't as easy to follow along, because the subtext was harder to interpret.

Since they had already known each other for so long and been through so much together, dating and phone calls and boundaries seemed silly. Yet somehow, somewhere along the way, it was those little things that seemed to be missing between them. The dates and the small talk would normally progress into the bigger things, like vacations and big talks. Skipping the little things made it that much harder to move onto the bigger things that she so desperately wanted with him.

'_We knew this was trouble even before we started.'_

Well, if any part of _anything_ he'd said during their break up made any sense at all, that aspect of it was definitely true. From the moment they'd met, it had been a complicated relationship. Andy knew right from the start that things would never be easy for them, as colleagues or anything more than that.

Of course it was trouble. They were both in way too deep before they even acknowledged it. Sam clearly wasn't a relationship guy, and deep down, Andy knew that if she got involved, he would be it for her. He would hold the power to completely destroy her heart; turning it inside and out in both the best and worst possible ways.

She really, _really_ wasn't wrong.

Today, when he'd told her he loved her, she thought breathing was a lost cause. She had ached to hear those words for at least two years, if she was being honest with herself. But what weight did they honestly hold against his recent actions? If he really loved her as much as he claimed to today, how could he have just abandoned her like that?

The memories flashed through her mind like brief, little strikes of lightening; bright and jolting.

* * *

When the buzzer rang, interrupting her subconscious, Andy darted over to her desk near the front door. She snatched a yellow highlighter out of the top drawer and marked the phrase currently plaguing her brain. Then, she snagged a sticky note off the stack, pasted it opposite the highlighted section and scribbled furiously as her doorbell buzzed for the second time. Luke could wait a minute; she had to make sure that she got the wording just right. Andy wiped away an errant tear from her cheek as she signed the note. Quickly closing the book, Andy grabbed her bags, threw them over her shoulder, and headed towards the door to start her new life.

She hesitated for just a second as she locked the door behind her; debating for the final time whether or not she was making the right decision, until a voice from that afternoon echoed in her mind.

'_Here comes the tricky part; you've got to let go.'_ So… she did just that.

If Sam meant it, if he really did love her, he'd understand - both the quote and her departure.

* * *

"You all set?" Luke asked as she climbed into the passenger's seat. "Everything in order?"

Andy nodded slowly as she looked over at him and sighed. "I guess."

She noticed Luke's eyebrows bounce up slightly at that. "You told me that you were ready for this," he reminded her.

"I am," she assured him. "I just need one final thing before I leave." Andy assumed that her pleading eyes clued Luke in to exactly what or who she was thinking about.

"No." He shook his head sharply. "Andy, we don't have the time, and this information is too vital…"

"Not that." Andy cut him off quickly, shaking her head and frowning a bit. "I'm not asking to go see him. Can you just…? I need you to do something for me." When it looked like Luke was about to protest again, she added, "Please?"

Luke knew the idea was risky, but, truth be told, he thought that he probably owed this to her. After everything was said and done, he really did care about her, and he wanted her to be happy.

He took a second to really look at her. He could see the urgency on her face and knew that this was something he had to relent on. Taking the proffered parcel from her hand, he asked, "Is this your last bit of baggage?"

"Yes, sir," Andy confirmed with a slight smile. It felt good to say it out loud, because it really was time to let go. She was ready to leave her old life, to leave behind the half-assed attempts at normalcy, the lonely mornings and the guarded hearts. It was time to move forward, and there was nothing left to hold on to anymore; nothing but a little bit of hope.

Luke nodded slightly and gave her a reluctant smile in agreement before he put the car in drive and started out towards the long road ahead of them.

* * *

_**E/N:**_ _**Next up is Sam. Let me know what you thought, please.**_


	2. Sam

_**A/N**__**: Thank you all so much for the reviews, alerts and encouragement. I really appreciate it. **_

_**Some people mentioned some frustration with the chapters being split up, and I honestly debated making it a one-shot, but since there is a lot of monologue in both parts, and they are from different POV's I thought it made more sense to split them. **_

_***Extra special thanks to the amazing Rookiebluefan89, who pushed me to make this the best I could.**_

_**Disclaimer**__**: It's on my list, but I doubt that I'll be getting stake in Rookie Blue for my birthday. *sigh***_

* * *

"One more?" Sam asked ruefully, looking over at Gail though bleary eyes.

She laughed lightly at that. "I think we've both had enough for tonight," Gail answered, not only referring to the alcohol that they shared.

"C'mon," Sam insisted, nudging her a bit with his elbow. "The night's still young."

Gail shook her head slightly and gave him a small smile. "They're not coming," she stated softly.

Sam's mouth twitched into a small, defeated shrug before he collapsed his head into his hands against the bar.

"You okay?" Gail asked, genuinely concerned.

"Right as rain," Sam mumbled from his arms.

"Clearly," Gail observed sarcastically. "I meant, are you okay to drive?"

Sam huffed out a quiet chuckle, and then shook his head in the negative. "I told her I loved her," he stated simply as he re-adopted his normal seated stance.

"So?" Gail asked, genuinely confused.

When he glanced over and saw Gail's perplexed expression, Sam knew that he had to explain. "Tonight," he started, roughly clearing his throat. "I told Andy I loved her _tonight_."

"Great timing," Gail jibed, rolling her eyes.

Sam opened his mouth to defend himself, but closed it again, quickly. She wasn't wrong. He noticed her expectant expression from the corner of his eye and knew that she was waiting for him to elaborate. Sam hesitated, unsure if he really wanted to say anything more. _Oh, what the hell?_ He figured that he may as well just get it all out there, since he'd obviously already left his dignity back in the hallways of 15 Division while he stood there begging her in front of all of his co-workers. What did he have to lose at this point?

"I've never said it out loud before." Sam continued, ignoring her previous remark. "To her or to anyone." When she was silent for a moment, Sam glanced over to catch the amused look on her face.

"You're kidding me, right?" Gail laughed.

"Glad I could amuse you, Peck," Sam mumbled, rolling his eyes heavenward before grabbing the glass off of the bar in front of him and downing the last sip of the drink.

Gail took a deep breath to get her breathing under control, and held up her hands, palms forward. "Sorry, I'm not actually laughing at you, just... it's not like that was any big surprise."

"Huh?"

"Oh, come on. I called you two from our second day on the job," Gail recalled. "It was never really a secret how you two felt about each other. I'm shocked that it took you this long, though," she admitted, "and weirdly disappointed in a way."

"Yeah, well, I guess you weren't the only one," Sam mused, self-deprecatingly.

Her expression immediately shifted from sympathetic to agitated. "Oh, come off of it. Stop feeling sorry for yourself," Gail started, making his eyes shoot up to hers. "So she didn't show tonight. So what? You can't exactly blame her." She knocked back the rest of her drink. "She's probably just confused right now. It's not like you're the most forthcoming guy around."

"Yeah, because _you're_ an open book," Sam shot back sardonically.

Her hands shot up in defense. "Hey," Gail feigned offense. "Nick and I are doing awesome," she stressed, seemingly trying to convince herself of that as much as Sam.

"Yeah?" Sam asked, raising his eyebrows in challenge. "Where is he then?"

Gail laughed mirthlessly and shook her head. "And on that charming note…"

Sam sighed quietly as he watched her shift in her chair, getting ready to leave. "Peck, I didn't mean…" Sam started to apologize. He hadn't meant to take his frustration out on her, but before he could finish, she quickly cut him off.

"I know you didn't," she said sincerely, as she stood to put her jacket on. "But I still need to get home and get some sleep. I need to be well rested so that I can kick Nick's ass tomorrow," she winked, tugging up the zipper on her coat.

Sam laughed a little at that and tipped his head to her. "Have a good night."

A small smile formed on her lips. "You, too." She started to walk by him but paused suddenly. "You guys will be fine, eventually." Gail put her hand on his shoulder and gave it a slight squeeze in a show of solidarity. "You just shouldn't have waited so long, jack-ass."

* * *

Gail was right. Now that Sam was sitting alone, it was quite obvious that he was gunning for president of the _too little too late_ club. When he'd finally admitted how he felt to Andy, he knew that it was not the right time for it. She was holding a bomb, for fuck's sake. Talk about weird timing.

The truth was that he couldn't even count the amount of times he'd wanted to say it before. He'd tried to hint at it on numerous occasions, hoping that she'd buy a clue.

"_Love working with you, McNally. Can't imagine my life without you in it."_

"_He's trying to fix himself, so maybe you'll love him back."_

"…_No, no. How about 'Love the One You're With'?"_

"_All you wanted was to keep being a cop, and all I wanted was you."_

"_That's what I love about you, McNally…"_

Regardless, she wasn't reading between the lines like he'd hoped. Or maybe she just needed to hear the actual words.

Sam thought back to when she'd told him; a wistful smile reached his face while his heart stung with regret over the memory. He remembered how surprised he was and how amazing it felt to hear those words from her lips. He suspected that she felt it, if the way she'd been looking at him in those prior weeks was any indication, but he never let himself really believe it. However, hearing her _say_ it, and admit it, out loud, to him… Well, that was something that nearly made his heart beat clear out of his chest, and left him practically breathless. The beaming smile on her face and the sincerity of her admission was something that would likely be burned into his brain for a very long time; at least the next forty years or so.

Today, he'd finally said it back. He hadn't _wanted_ it to happen like that or under those circumstances. It obviously wasn't the ideal moment, but he _had_ to. The woman he loved was standing there, being brave while her life was in danger, and through everything, there she was looking for the positives in the situation.

"…_Hey, if it's the last thing I ever do, then at least it's a first, so-"_

Sam had meant what he said; he honestly wished that he could be more like her. So, if it was the last thing he ever did, the last thing he ever got to say to her, then he really needed to tell her.

Admitting it aloud felt like a weight being lifted off of his shoulders; like he'd finally fessed up to some giant secret that was weighing him down. Oliver was right that morning; he didn't want to be alone.

He wanted _her._ Andy McNally. His rookie. The girl who literally and figuratively knocked him on his ass from the first day he'd met her. And every day since.

He'd never experienced that type of instant connection with anyone before. He knew off the bat that it was more than just attraction; it was like he was drawn to her. Though, he really, really didn't want to be. She was too young, too naïve and gullible and too damn brave for her own good. It was annoying. Sam could never decide if wanted to shoo her off and send her packing or find a way to permanently tuck her into his pocket for safe keeping. But that was just Andy. Everything about her drove him crazy, in both the best and worst possible ways, and still did.

That's why it didn't take long to admit that Oliver was also right about his mistake of leaving her in the first place. Sam didn't even really know what possessed him to break up with her at all. An ache formed in the pit of his stomach when he thought about how he'd left her alone and crying in the rain when truthfully, all that he'd really wanted to do was pull her in close. He'd wanted to comfort her, find comfort in her, and thank heaven that she was there and safe.

A small part of him could guess why he did what he did, though. If Sam sat there and tried to psychoanalyze himself, he'd guess it was because of the way he'd learned to cope his childhood.

Sam learned at a very early age that he couldn't rely on anyone but himself. Being told that you need to be the man of the house at the ripe old age of six, puts an indescribable amount of pressure on a kid. Having no father around, and trying to emotionally support two women before you hit puberty could make a guy change his demeanor. On top of that, getting shuffled around through the foster care system throughout your formative years doesn't exactly make someone warm and fuzzy and trusting, either.

In the end, all Sam really learned in that time was that no matter what happened, he had to force himself to be strong. When you feel like you're carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders, there are only two options: you can either buckle and fall, or you can man up and learn to be tougher, harder. There was only one option, in his opinion. He gained an understanding from his parents' examples, of how important it was to be in control of his own life, and his own destiny. The most important lesson he learnt was that relying on and _needing_ someone made you vulnerable.

And vulnerability equaled weakness.

Instead, Sam had spent nearly thirty-six years of his life learning how to fend for himself. Learning how to take care of others when they needed it, but never letting himself want or need anyone to help him in return. After his first and only real serious relationship failed miserably, he decided that love and commitment would strictly be for the birds, or the bird-brained. He made it a point to focus on his career and keep any relationship 'strings' merely paper thin or completely unattached. Sam focused instead, on being a great cop and a great lone wolf. He'd nearly mastered the art of both.

Then… he met her.

From the very beginning, Andy McNally had left him spellbound, with her tenacity and fearlessness and lion's heart and dazzling smile. He knew pretty early on that there was something about her that he needed and, strangely enough, _wanted_ in his life. At first he wasn't sure if it was her laugh, or her smile, or her awkward rambling or what. Somewhere along the line, though, he realized that it wasn't _something_ about her that he needed; it was just _her_, all of her.

And that scared the shit out of him.

So, he punked out.

Not at first. At first, he tried to show her his romantic side, the small part of him that still believed in love and life and the future while she was with him in the undercover apartment. When she'd come back for him at the Alpine Inn, in the face of danger, his mind was truly blown, and he let himself start to believe in shit he didn't think actually existed. He knew right then and there that he would open himself up, tell her whatever she wanted to hear, be honest and romantic and vulnerable – shit, he'd be any damned thing she wanted - if it meant that she would just _stay, _for him.

But, she didn't. She left.

He should've known better than to get his hopes up. When he got the voicemail and email about Temagami, he forced those walls securely back in place. He'd basically convinced himself over those three long months that she wasn't as serious about him as he was about her, about _them_.

When she'd returned and asked for another chance, a chance to start, it didn't take him long to agree. He was sour, but he wasn't too far gone to have convinced himself that he didn't still crave her every second of every day in every way. But this time around, he'd opted out of making the effort, or doing the work. Opted out of admitting and feeling and changing or growing, or whatever other crap that Oliver was constantly yammering on about. And that is exactly why he found himself in this current predicament.

So, there he was, perched on a stool at the bar, still waiting and hoping. He wanted to kick himself. Why the hell had he even given her an out? "I'll be at the Penny," he'd told her. What an idiot. What he _should _have done was put her up against the wall right there in the hallway, got a hand in her hair and kissed her senseless until she agreed to take him back. He should've hauled her over his shoulder and into his truck and into his bed, telling her and _showing_ her how much he loved her over and over again until the sun came up and there was no doubt left in her mind.

At least that's what he _should_ have done. Add it to his list of regrets. Now, all he could do was hope.

* * *

Now that the bar had mostly cleared out, save for the faint voices of a few other stragglers, the only thing left to fill the void was the music blaring from the speakers. He could hear Bret Michaels singing about best friends dying and about trying not to break down and pleading for something good in in this screwed up world. The chorus bounced off the walls and around again in his brain, perfectly in sync; a melodic taunt repeating the mantra that has been stuck in his head all night. _Give me something to believe in…_

Sam swiftly caught the irony, he really did. He figured that he deserved it, though, because he'd brought this mess upon himself. Breaking up with her in the first place, was a stupid, cowardly thing to do, but more than that, he should have told her how he felt sooner. He'd known for a long time just how deeply his feeling for her ran, and he's had a million better opportunities to tell her. Like pretty much anytime over the past three years.

A deep groan bubbled up from his chest at his stupidity. When he looked around to see if anyone heard him, Sam realized that he really was a pretty pathetic sight, sitting there by himself, alone and desperate. The bartender had announced last call a few minutes ago, but he could not, _could not_, force himself to leave that seat. He felt his heart jump in his chest when he heard the door open again, and he sent out a silent plea that it was her, before he swiveled on his seat to check. Sam snorted again at the turn this day had taken. Instead of it being the _only_ person he was longing to see, it was the pretty much the _last_ person he wanted to see in that moment.

"Here to buy me another drink, Callaghan?" Sam quipped, hoping to hell that Luke didn't see right through his facade. "While I appreciate the attention, I've got to tell you, I don't swing that way," he recovered with a smirk.

"She can't make it," Luke stated bluntly, ignoring the wisecrack. Sam felt his whole body stiffen when the realization hit him and let his eyes fall closed for a brief moment. He attempted to play it off like he was drunk and trying to comprehend what was going on, but he honestly just needed the short time to hide the defeat. When he re-opened them, Sam jutted his chin out slightly, acknowledging that he understood.

Just as Sam was opening his mouth to undoubtedly make another sarcastic remark, Luke cut him off by throwing the book on the bar in front of him. The loud slap of the cover against the wood halted his parley.

Sam shot a confused glance up at Luke. "What's that?" he questioned, barely getting a glimpse of it.

"Don't know," Luke replied with an indifferent shrug of his shoulders. "It's for you."

Luke gave him an oddly sympathetic look before turning back around toward the door. "I told you that you were an idiot," he threw over his shoulder as he pushed his way back out of the bar.

Sam exhaled sharply and let out a low, humorless chuckle to try to relieve the sudden heaviness that he felt in his chest. Andy had joined the taskforce; she chose her job over him. _Again_.

Not that he had given her any real reason not to over the last six weeks. As a matter of fact, his recent behavior was probably what had prompted her to apply. Sam relaxed a tiny bit, feeling a hint of relief over the fact that she had at least had a very valid reason for not meeting him tonight. Then, he actually surprised himself when he felt his disappointment morph into something akin to… pride. It was a pretty big deal to be picked for something like that, but he knew that she'd deserved it. Sam sent up a silent prayer for Andy's safety, but knew in his gut that she'd be just fine. He could practically imagine her telling him to relax because she was 'trained by the best'.

Turning his body back to the bar with the intent of settling his tab, he noticed what Luke had thrown in front of him. His lips quirked up into a small smile when he stared down at an old, worn copy of _To Kill a Mockingbird_, knowing immediately that it was from her.

He picked the book up and let it fall open to the bookmarked page. His eyebrows shot up when he noticed the highlighted section.

**"I wanted you to see what real courage is, instead of getting the idea that courage is a man with a gun in his hand. It's when you know you're licked before you begin but you begin anyway and you see it through no matter what. You rarely win, but sometimes you do."**

He felt his heart start to race as his eyes shifted over to the large, pink, heart- shaped, sticky note that was secured to the opposite page.

_Sam, _

_Faith means believing in things that don't always make sense, and courage is holding on when things look impossible. __You__ make me want to be brave. _

_If you really meant it- if you __still__ mean it when I get back- then let's see it through. I really do want to win with you. _

_Love,_

_Andy_

With that, Sam smiled his first genuine smile in what felt like months. Leave it to her to try to be the teacher for both of them. She was right, though. Sometimes it took more than patrolling the street with a badge and a gun to prove you're strong. Courage with your life was one thing; courage with your heart was something entirely different.

The minute that he read the note, Sam knew that he would wait for her, no matter how long it took. Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing that he'd finally shared his feelings with her. Suddenly the idea of opening himself up, of being a little vulnerable, didn't seem so unnerving.

After all, she made _him_ want to be brave, too.

* * *

_**E/N**__**: In case you aren't familiar with it, the song mentioned is called 'Something To Believe In' from Poison. **_

_**I think this one's over, so please leave a review, and let me know what you thought. **_


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